How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Concentration Camps

A short journey through Kenya's mostly chaotic chess scene - in a good way.

The anticipation is thicker than Nairobi traffic on a Monday morning. This weekend - 30th and 31st August, 2025 to be precise - the Kenya National Chess League roars back to life - hoping to mimic Harambee Stars. The battleground? The Cooperative University of Kenya, where fixtures in both the Premier League and the Super League will unfold - beautifully choreographed chaos.

Now, if you're expecting me to explain the difference between these leagues with crystal clarity, you've come to the wrong blog. I'm about as confused as a tourist trying to navigate the city on a bodaboda. But what I can tell you is that Saturday morning brings us a fixture so poetic, Shakespeare would weep: Mashpark Chess Club B versus Black Knights Juniors, while their big brothers Mashpark Chess Club A square off against Knights Chess Academy Kites.

Yes, you read that right. Mashpark has an A team and a B team - they're running a parallel chess universe. Meanwhile, the Knights have gone full ornithology on us – more on that delicious madness later.

The Great Divide: Welcome to Chess Concentration Camps

Here's where things get spicier than pilipili in your ugali. The Super League has been split into two divisions – and honestly, calling them "concentration camps" feels about right. Each team is clawing, scheming, and probably sacrificing pawns to ancient chess gods, all trying to axe their camp colleagues and emerge victorious for the holy grail: the playoffs.

The playoff winners get promoted to... wait for it... the Premier League! Or is it the Championship? Or maybe the "Supreme Ultra Mega Chess Bonanza League"? Your guess is as good as mine. There have been so many changes in this federation within a short period of time that I've given up trying to keep track. It's like they're playing musical chairs with league names and titles, except the music never stops and nobody knows where the chairs went.

At this point, I've adopted a zen-like approach: show up, find a chessboard, try to win, and let the organizers figure out what tournament I just played in and where I'm supposed to be next. It's like GPS navigation for chess players – "In 200 meters, turn left to your next existential crisis."

The Aviary of Absurdity: When Chess Meets National Geographic

Now, let's talk about the Knights Chess Academy, who have clearly raided a bird sanctuary for team names. In Super League A, we have:

• Knights Chess Academy Falcons (swift and deadly)
• Knights Chess Academy Eagles (majestic and soaring)
• Knights Chess Academy Hawks (sharp-eyed and fierce)

I'm genuinely terrified they'll introduce Knights Chess Academy Owls next – because nothing says "checkmate" like a nocturnal bird with 270-degree head rotation staring you down across a chessboard. The psychological warfare alone would be devastating.

But wait, there's more! Lurking in the shadows like an academic empire that's taken over half the chess world, we have the Mavens Academy with their seemingly infinite army of teams. I counted eight the last time I checked, but honestly, they multiply faster than rabbits in mating season. At this rate, they'll probably need to switch to a hexadecimal naming system just to keep track: Mavens 0x01, Mavens 0x02, all the way to Mavens 0xFF. It's the only logical way to manage a chess academy that's clearly planning world domination, one 64-square battlefield at a time.

My Own Beautiful Struggle

Here's the thing about writing about the Premier League – I can't actually tell you much about it because my beloved Westlands Chess Club and I aren't even in it. We're stuck in what I've affectionately dubbed the "concentration camps" of Super League A, where Saturday afternoon finds us facing those magnificent Knights Chess Academy Eagles.

And here's the kicker – I don't even have convenient access to Premier League fixtures. For all I know, they could have renamed it the "Supreme Chess Thunderdome of Destiny" last night and I'd be none the wiser. The federation changes names faster than Gen-Zs change their theme - the other day it was Team Kenya, two days later - Team huyu Ruto ametuzoea sana, lazima aseme hizo millions alikua anatoa wapi.

It's like being the kid pressed against the candy store window, watching the Premier League players inside while you're stuck outside trying to figure out if you're in Division 2, Super League A, or the "Please-Just-Let-Us-Play-Chess League."

The Method to the Madness

But you know what? There's something beautifully chaotic about this whole setup. It's like organized confusion – or maybe confused organization. The kind of system that makes perfect sense to absolutely no one, which somehow makes it perfectly Kenyan.

We have teams with names that sound like they were generated by a random word algorithm: Mashpark A, Knights Academy Kites (are they flying now?), and somewhere in the distance, the mysterious Mavens plotting their next numerical move.

The leagues multiply like matatu routes – you think you know where you're going until suddenly there's a new division, a playoff system that appeared overnight, and promotion rules that change suddenly. I bet they will change even before I take my next  shower in this Nairobi weather. And don't get me started on The National Championships, which has been transformed from a simple tournament into some Formula 1-inspired Grand Prix system with multiple events leading to one final round-robin showdown.

Honestly, Chess Kenya Federation should just hire Christian Horner – you know, Red Bull Racing recently fired team principal. The guy's probably sitting at home wondering what to do with all his strategic genius, completely unaware that there's a vacant slot in a Sub-Saharan chess federation that desperately needs someone who actually understands how to manage Grand Prix events. He'd fit right in with our organized confusion and might even teach us a thing or two about turning chaos into championships.

The Grand Finale

So this Saturday, while the Premier League elite duke it out in their ivory chess towers, we concentration camp dwellers will be grinding it out in the trenches. Westlands Chess Club versus Knights Chess Academy Eagles – a battle between a neighborhood crew and a soaring bird of prey.

Will we clip their wings? Will they swoop down for the kill? Will I finally figure out what league we're actually playing in? Will the Mavens Academy launch Mavens 0xF6 while we're mid-game?

The beauty is that none of it really matters. At the end of the day, it's still 64 squares, 32 pieces, and the eternal human struggle to avoid hanging your queen like a rookie. Whether you're battling in the Premier League, grinding in Super League A, or trying to decode which of the Mavens' many incarnations you're facing, we're all just soldiers in the grand chess army.

And honestly? I wouldn't have it any other way.

After all, when life gives you organizational chaos, just castle queenside and hope for the best - leave Bongcloud to Juliani.